


Sensory Deprivation

by occasional_boy_reporter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Sensory Deprivation, light play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 00:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16186724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter





	Sensory Deprivation

 

 

   “How’s that?”

   “Holy hell, Cayde,” Andal dumps a shuddering breath into the empty space in front of him. “Fine! It’s fine. Can we start now?”

   Andal tugs at the emergency cord binding his wrists to the headboard to illustrate its hold.

   “See, it’s fine,” the man all but whimpers.

   “Not worried about the hold,” Cayde admits from his spot kneeling on the bed. Somewhere close. Close enough to make Andal shiver. “‘M worried about you. Does it hurt?”

   Andal hesitates to answer because denying discomfort might make Cayde stop stroking the skin just above and below his handiwork. But if Cayde really thinks Andal’s in any pain, then the whole evening changes and Andal’s been waiting far too long to let this night slip away. He did not let Cayde strip him and tie him to the rustiest bed in existence in the most secluded bunker in South America to NOT have mind-blowing sex tonight!

   “No! No, I’m good. But you gotta give me something, bud. Touch me. Anywhere.”

   The first stroke startles him, just a light caress over his brow. He can’t even feel the cool metal of Cayde’s thumb through all the layers of scarf wound around his head as an impromptu blindfold. After the initial shock of it, the drag of Cayde’s thumb proves to be soothing and Andal abandons some of the anxiety he didn’t realize was coiling in his gut.

   “Sap,” the human accuses as his smirk slides toward bliss.

   Cayde offers neither defense nor rebuttal but he does withdraw his hand and Andal’s stomach leaps in anticipation. Cayde’s done checking in for now. The game has started. He can feel it.

   The bunker is deathly silent- no creak that would come from settling wood of their usual EDZ haunts, no sighing winds or rustle of small creatures this deep underground. Andal swears Cayde has even found a way to muffle the constant ambient noise of Exo systems ticking away in his chest. It’s only been a few seconds but there’s something about the silence and the blindness that make it feel like an eternity is crawling by. There’s something about knowing his partner is RIGHT THERE but not knowing exactly where or what he’s doing, thinking,  _planning_  that makes Andal want him  _desperately_.

   Cayde’s name dies on the tip of Andal’s tongue when a crackle of Arc dances along his bare ribs without the weight of fingers or palm to make it feel real. Andal’s gasp doesn’t even bounce off the walls.

   It’s just the sound of breath returning, pulse hiccuping, and the creak of the rusty frame as Andal grips the cord leading to his wrists.

   “Th…that’s it, Cayde,” Andal gulps stale air and licks his lips before baring his teeth in challenge. “Give me your worst.”

   “You are so gonna regret this,” Cayde promises in a whisper while a hint of static electricity sparks across the inside of a tan thigh.

   “God,“ Andal groans, "I hope so.”

 

 

 


End file.
